Searching For The Cursed (Shattered Souls #1)

Prologue

Blood.

An ocean of blood.

There was blood all over. And he was floating in it. The only thing that he could feel was the immense gut wrenching pain inside and out.

He could not believe he was so helpless. His great power and incredible strength had been no help against the enemies as they taunted him saying his suffering would go on forever. At this point, he would rather be dead than be alive in this pitiful state.

In desperation, he sent out a call. Called for his kind to help him. But all his cries went unanswered. Where were they? Why wasn't anyone helping him? Was there absolutely no one who cared enough to come and end his suffering? No! There was someone. His kin? His friend? He couldn't remember. But he knew he wasn't alone. There was someone who cared for him. But someone whom he knew had lured him into this hell too. Was the two the same person or it had been different? He couldn't tell anymore. His memories failed him.

His tormentors had captured him and paralyzed him. The only thing he could do was feel the pain as he couldn't move, not even his vocal cords. He could hear their taunts, the endless questions and feel their rage when he didn't acknowledge their presence or the pain inflicted on him. He wanted death, would even welcome it. But he wasn't going to stop memorizing the faces of his tormentors until that time. His ice cold eyes stared at them without blinking. Watching, waiting and promising retaliation.

Sreeshanvika woke up with a start. Her lungs struggled to take a proper breath as she suffered from the aftereffects of the nightmare. She was sweating profusely and her mind was fuzzy. With shaking hands, she reached for the water bottle kept beside her bed. It took her a few tries before she could manage to open the lid as her limbs refused to function properly.

As she gulped the cold water, the chill and pain she felt started to fade. She calmed herself sitting on her bed. The nightmare! It felt so real! She could literally feel the pain of that man. As if it was her own and not just a dream. She felt terrible, bile rose up her throat as she sensed the cuts and burns in her body. She looked down at her body to see the smooth surface. There was no injury however. But she could not shake off the feeling though.

And the eyes!

His eyes cold stare turned her blood to ice. Those gloosy midnight black orbs seemed to see right through ones soul. Another shudder passed through her spine as she remembered those eyes. Those were imprinted on her brain. She didn't think it was ever going to be forgotten.

Sreeshanvika stood up with much difficulty and went towards the idol kept on the shelf. She was unable to stand for long and sat before the idol joining her hands in a prayer motion. It was an idol of lord Krishna.

Though her kind worshipped lord Shiva in his Sarabha form, she had always been fascinated by the stories of lord Krishna. Thus, she kept his idol and worshipped him often. More than worshipping she talked to him. About her life, her hopes, her troubles, her pain, each and everything, she shared with her Krishna. In this lonely world, he was the only friend she had, or so she felt.

Sreeshanvika was a twenty six year old wolf shifter though she never actually shifted. It was another reason of her being lonely in a pack full of wolf shifters. Though her senses were enhanced like any other wolf, she was never able to shift in her wolf form.

Thus she became the weakling among the weaklings. Humorous it was. But those shifters who mocked and demeaned her for not being able to shift was actually the tainted bloodline of Vrikajina (wolf-skin). The original Vrikajinas were much more powerful and formidable than the werewolves.

Confusing? Let's start from the start than. It was believed that long long ago, once upon a time, lived a powerful and pious King. To eradicate the unrighteousness from earth, he took a vow and went north, east, south and west in search of victories. He succeeded in fulfilling his vow and ended the sufferings of the weak. But in doing so, he failed to notice that he had lost his humbleness and ego had taken residence inside him.
(Aur yeah toh jag bidhit hai, ki jab jab ahangkar apna sish uthata hai, uska cut jana hi niyati nirdharit hoti hai.)
And it is known by all whenever arrogance raises its head, its destiny is to get cut only.

And this time it happened too. The warrior king in his pride insulted a brahmin. And the angered brahmin cursed him so.

***

(Jis ahangkar mein cur ho kar tumne apna bibek kho dia hai aur ek pasu ki bhati acharan kar rahe ho, abb wahi tumhara satya banega.

Tum abb na manusya rahoge, or nahi pasu.

Tumhari atma tak tumhara saath chor degi.

Yugo yugo tak bhatkoge iss dhara par, kintu moksh ki prapti nehi hogi tumhe.

Sunnya ho jaoge tum.

Sunnya.)

"Arrogance has snatched your consciousness and you are behaving like an animal, now that will remain your truth only.

You'll no longer be a man or animal.

You'll lose even your soul.

You'll roam on this earth forever. But will never be able to attain freedom.

You'll have nothing but emptiness.

Only emptiness."

***

The king realized his sin. But it was already too late and the curse took its course, leaving the king with nothing. He became a scary beast who remained on two feet though. Being half human and half beast, he was feared by all creatures for his immense strength and incredible prowess. In despair, grief and guilt, he decided to do penance. Years passed, decades passed and centuries went by. There was still no rest for him as he roamed the earth with no purpose or will. His penance bore fruit though and lord Shiva in his Sarabha form bestowed him with His presence.

The cursed King asked for forgiveness but a Rishis curse couldn't be cured. So, Sarabhaswara gave him the boon to attain his soul back in the form of a woman, Anu (individual soul). The woman, the bearer of his soul became his eternal companion, his sanity, his only salvation, the light to his darkness, his mate.

Thus, came the existence of shapeshifters or so was told. Now the original bloodline of Vrikajina remained pure as they only mated with their soulmate. But it wasn't easy to find the one. Some remained mateless forever and succumbed to darkness eventually. When a Vrikajina decided to defy his fate and took a chosen mate who was not destined for him, the tainted bloodline of werewolves started. They had neither the strength or abilities of the purebred nor maintained the sacred code of living that was to be followed. That's why even the Adhiza (superior by birth/ alpha) of a Samuday (pack) wasn't strong enough to stand before a purebred.

As Sreeshanvika's mind calmed down enough for her to form rational thoughts, her heart missed a beat as a possibility occurred to her. This wasn't the first time she had experienced this dream. It started a few days ago. And now that her mind replayed the history of Vrikajinas, the question arose what if the dreams weren't actually just a figment of her imagination. What if there was a shifter out there, suffering these horrors.

And if there was, that would mean only one thing.

The shifter in his last moments were desperately calling for his soul.

Her.

***†***

Hello!

This is a pure work of fiction based on Indian Mythology.

Well...let me know what you think.

You've got the gist of it. If there's any question, I would gladly answer. So feel free to ask.

And if you find the plot interesting, keep reading and please Do Vote.